


Passengers

by Azar



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/306816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azar/pseuds/Azar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they leave 1913, there's one place Martha wants to go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Passengers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Exiled_mind](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Exiled_mind).



> Despite any possible thematic similarities to The Last Dodo (it's been a while since I read it, I can't remember that well), for the purpose of this story only aired TV stories are being considered as canon.

"Why the Cincinatti Zoo, of all places?" the Doctor asked as he followed Martha along the meandering pathways.

Martha didn't answer right away. She was obviously looking for something, and judging by their surroundings, that something was a bird. The Doctor felt as though he ought to know the answer to this one, but for some maddening reason, it eluded him. Perhaps it was an after effect of his time as a human: that thought made him frown.

Finally, Martha stopped before a stone pagoda with a pink tile roof. She studied it for a moment, then stepped inside. Her eyes searched the caged roosts within the pagoda as though looking for an old friend, then she stopped unexpectedly to stare at what seemed at first glance to be an ordinary pigeon. At least, ordinary to anyone who didn't realise what they were looking at. The bird cocked its head, looking at them with curious--but also lonely--red eyes. It was mostly gray, but with a rosy breast almost like a robin, and a soft iridescence to some of its feathers.

"Ah..." the Doctor murmured, understanding at last. He regarded the bird with the sympathy of a kindred spirit.

"There she is," Martha stated quietly, her eyes never leaving the pigeon. "My namesake. Or, well, one of them." After a contemplative pause the Doctor was hesitant to break, she explained. "When I was little, I hated my name. It seemed so plain, so old-fashioned, especially compared with Leo and Tish. So Mum would tell me stories about people--or animals--with my name, and what made them special. When I was five, we came on holiday to the States and we went to see the Smithsonian. They had her there..." she pointed to the bird. "...stuffed. I remember staring at her and just feeling...so incredibly sad that she was dead. That no one would ever have the chance again to see her alive, or anything like her."

"The last of the passenger pigeons," the Doctor said softly. He'd seen a whole flock, once, whilst fighting an infestation of Thraxundil in Saskatchewan in 1813 with Jamie and Zoe. There'd been so many that it was a wonder they hadn't blocked the sun, and it had taken nearly an hour from the first bird winging overhead to the last. He still recalled the absolute rapture on Zoe's face, watching the migration of a species that only existed in photographs by her time.

"Poor thing," Martha said softly, still studying her extinct avian namesake. Her eyes drifted to the other birds in the aviary, then back to the passenger pigeon. One of the most social species of bird in Earth's history was the passenger pigeon in its prime, but this one showed no interest, at least for the moment, in socialising with her fellow captives, despite the best efforts of a friendly pair of parakeets.

Martha looked at the Doctor. "It's not the same, is it?"

He didn't need to ask what she meant. "No," he answered softly. "It's not the same."

John Smith had thought the hardest part about becoming the Doctor again would be giving up Joan. He hadn't known, couldn't have truly comprehended that he'd be giving up the entire human race.

Martha the human slid her hand quietly into his. Martha the passenger pigeon gave them one last knowing look before finally giving in to the persistent attentions of her two parakeet companions. Within moments, they were twittering away at each other with all the current avian gossip, as though nothing had ever been wrong.

The Doctor decided to take the hint. "So. Where to next?"

Martha Jones chuckled ruefully. "After the last few months? I think we both deserve a holiday. Got any resort planets in the TARDIS database?"

The Doctor smiled. It wasn't the same and never would be, but that didn't seem to stop these humans he picked up from trying.

"I know just the place."

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by discovering (or being reminded--I can't remember if I used to know) that the last surviving passenger pigeon was named Martha.


End file.
